James Kelman - Dirt Road

Oh but it didnay matter now anyway he had the music. He felt it so strongly how he could just relax, relax. Breathe properly. Not being able to play drove ye nuts. But when ye could listen! At least ye could listen. Yer eyes look and yer ears hear but what sees and what listens? Yer brains. Ye listen to the music but “you” is the brain. The brain listens, the brain works.

That was the truth. Every night in life. Lying in bed and all the stuff going through yer mind whether from a gig or a rehearsal, how things worked and if they didnt work. If somebody was out on something, ye had to put it right. You could be asleep but yer brains werent. All these times Murdo woke up and had to jump out of bed and write down, “guitar in more” “fiddle to shut up” “bass too thump thump” “space space space”. What did that mean, “space space space”? Murdo knew.

Then having to stop it all and go to school and listen to silly crap nonsense from people all younger than ye. Just shit, bla bla bla; guys all looking at each other and if their hair looks cool or what, what kind of shoes, what kind of trousers; talking about the same stuff all the time and even lassies like it was the same one they all fancied, aw look at her look at her, check her out!

Murdo was sick of it. Ye just want to laugh. Then if a girl does look at ye, like a real look. Ye think they dont but they do. Girls look. That was Sarah in the shop when she saw Murdo: Who’s that?

Me, shouts Murdo! Me!

Who are you!

Ha ha.

Sarah was tough. Then ye knew her and she wasnt. How she was in the shop taking the money, just tough! Then Sunday morning, how she was then: beautiful. But she was beautiful on Saturday night too.

She knew nothing about Scotland. Not even where it was. It was only England she could “see”. Murdo said to think about the top of England. She couldnt. That was weird. He was the only Scottish person she knew. So if she didnt know Scotland, where did she think he came from? Nowhere. He didnt have a country, it was just him. Murdo. The gig in Lafayette. Oh Murdo will come. As if it was up to him. Probably they thought that. Oh ask Murdo and he will come. How will he get there? Oh somebody will drive him. Who? His dad or his uncle. Maybe his auntie. Oh here he is, here’s Murdo. Hiya Murdo. All ready to play, and his accordeon sent from Scotland. Oh he got it air mail express delivery, where’s the gig!

Ha ha, if that was true. Oh Dad are ye going to drive me? Oh yes, where’s my driving licence. I left it in Scotland. Maybe we can get a train or else a bus. Do buses go to the gig?

Playing with Queen Monzee-ay was another world. The trouble was Dad knew nothing. It never would have occurred to him about the old lady sitting there that she was a beautiful beautiful player, just a brilliant musician. He didnay even hear her playing! When Dad arrived Sunday lunchtime she was sitting having a smoke.

What did that mean anyway? a brilliant musician. For Murdo to speak about music with Dad he would have to start from the beginning, the very very beginning.

*

Later somebody was coming downstairs. Murdo reached quickly to stop the music, was lying on his side when the door clicked open. Dad. In he came. Murdo pretended to be sleeping. A glass of orange juice balanced on a book near his head. Dad would lift it in case it toppled. A sexy book with a sexy cover. That was it without a lock, people just walk in. Dad waited without moving. Murdo opened his eyes and looked about.

Hey, he said, ye coming upstairs?

I fell asleep. I was just eh I was reading.

Hey, said Dad, ye coming upstairs?

Of course Dad yeah.

Dad nodded. Ye done it last night as well.

Done what?

Ye disappeared! Ye left to go the bathroom and ye didnay come back. When we were in the garden. I looked in later and ye were snoozing. We were expecting ye back and ye never came back.

I was just tired I mean I fell asleep.

Ye could have fell asleep later Murdo it would have been nice if ye had come up the stair. Uncle John and Aunt Maureen were looking to say goodnight. It would have been good if ye had been there for them. For Aunt Maureen especially. That great meal she prepared.

Dad I’m sorry.

Yeah I know son but that’s the reality. It’s not anything to be sorry about. Ye just have to think about things. It’s a kind of respect; ye respect the person.

Dad I do respect them, what d’ye mean! They’re great, Aunt Maureen and Uncle John are great.

Well they like you son that’s for sure. Dad stepped to the door but then paused there. He looked again at the old hi-fi. Its set-up light was showing. Is that a CD player? he asked.

Yeah.

I thought I heard music.

I found it in the back room.

Huh!

I was playing it low.

Right… Dad was looking at the CD player again.

It was lying in a cupboard, said Murdo.

So ye just took it?

Murdo gazed at him.

Did ye ask Aunt Maureen?

…

Did ye ask Aunt Maureen?

Dad what about?

About taking it.

No. I just found it I mean I just found it, it was lying in a cupboard.

If it was lying in a cupboard ye went looking in the cupboard. Know what I mean son ye dont find things lying in cupboards. Not without looking inside: ye went looking inside. Which isnt a nice thing to do, being honest about it. Ye dont go into people’s houses and look about in their cupboards. It’s not something ye do son, not in people’s houses. Ye’re here as a guest. Ye should have asked first: that’s all I’m saying.

Sorry.

It’s no a question of “sorry”.

Well I am sorry.

It’s for future reference Murdo that’s how I tell ye these things. Dad closed over the door. The creaks of the footsteps up the stairs; the bathroom door opening then shut and snibbed.

Murdo had waited a moment then stretched out on the mattress again, clasping his hands behind his head. He didnt want to go upstairs yet. But where else?

Nowhere — except down through the dirt.

That was the trouble with the basement. Ye were already in the earth. On the ground floor wee chinks of light came in but not down here. At night the dark was like the densest black ever. Ye could have been floating in outer space, falling backwards, so ye couldnt see what was roundabout, just looking up the way and like how ye never look up the way, ye never do. Ye always think about sideways like how the universe goes; a straight line going on forever but horizontal, never up and down like vertical, so infinity again. Discovering America, that was tides, going sideways and thinking sooner or later, going sideways ye’re bound to hit India.

A different world. That was America. Ye thought ye knew it from the movies but ye didnt. How the Cherokee Nation was till the white man came and stole the land. People fighting and dying. Men, women and children and the stuff they leave behind. Soldiers, cowboys and indians, slaves. Black people. Chains and prisons, getting hanged. Wee babies. Martin Luther King and the cops just battering and killing people. Alabama and these places, and here ye were. People had their beliefs. Were any of them right? They couldnt all be right. Except they believed them. Even that stupid bird

although it wasnt stupid.

Of course it wasnt, just a wee bit unusual how it looked at him, if it did. Murdo thought so. Whatever a person was to a bird. Birds didnt know. Maybe some do, like a parrot. If you were interested in a bird the bird would be interested in you. Cows saw people as giants. Some animals only saw black and white. Bats were blind. If ye had a pet bat it would know ye by the sound ye made. Every person has a different sound, a different face, a different voice. The instruments they use have the same sound but how people play them makes the sound different. Birds too. Birds look at ye. People say “bird-brain” but that is the last thing. Birds are clever. Back home it was seabirds squawking, big gannets and gulls; oystercatchers, guillemots, ducks; all kinds, it depends where ye were. Ye heard them calling to one another. The same sound going all the time, just repeating and repeating be careful be careful